Caterwauling

I spoke of dipshits two posts ago.

Well yesterday I was in full-bore writing mode from 5 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. when my brain activity ceased.

One of the things I wrote was something to head off a complaint from DTOM who gets mad when I don’t write about her pet project.

Well, I got the date of The Thing wrong.

Which, one of my beloveds recognized before we hit the “send” button on it to our best customers.

Would have been a shame to have the document I busted my ass on have a grave error.

I said wait a minute. I had copied and pasted the date, along with some language I don’t love, FROM A CHAT WITH THAT PERSON.

Sure enough, I found the chat in my receipt box. The chat was specifically DTOM hating my well-written idea and then changing it to sound more ridiculous.

So, joy, happy to hear that someone with one job blessed a bad date.

But also … that message was from 8/8.

Which means I ran the same incorrect info on that date to our best customers.

I shouldn’t admit to making a goof here.

But my struggle with this person is they are always calling me out and shaming me and trying to make me look stupid in front of multitudes of people.

And yet.

I have a box of receipts (screenshots) filled with “Look what this fool said or did now” — and, other than the 8/8 exception, I have how I/my team saved us from looking like boneheads.

The hilarious thing of it all was that when I sent my tome to production, I said if we get a “love note” about this, it won’t be because of a typo. (As I took a lot of poetic license with the copy.)

Well. This would absolutely have been our mistake (as DTOM takes no responsibility whatsoever). So kudos to my staffer who saved my ass.

Also kudos to my other staffer who caught a data error as well.

Every time I get data from someone (not DTOM), I check it but I don’t always catch everything.

And I DID know something was hinky with this data, but the way I fixed it made a bad situation less bad but STILL bad.

Anyway. I have more work to do today.

But I just want to express my joy at my hiring skills. These “saves” sounds little and maybe they are …

But as one of them said, “The More You Know … the fewer love notes you get.”

I got spendy and bought tickets to some concerts. Then changed my mind.

My Melissa Etheridge/Indigo Girls one just sold. For below face value.

Also I had forgotten I had it for sale. And I had booked flights/hotel.

Anyway, now I have a flight credit and a room credit.

The Def Leppard one didn’t sell. I listed that one at face value, too.

So I drove my happy ass to the venue last night.

Only to have no fewer than four people ask me if I had any tickets for sale.

It sold out after I pulled my ticket off TicketMaster.

Like … I had a ticket for you before I braved the rainy drive to Fort Lauderdale.

Anyway. I hadn’t seen the band as a kid because I had to be $elective. I got Bon Jovi and Motley Crue and was quite elated with that.

So now I’m on a bit of a mission for not just do-overs — like with Kenny Chesney and Alanis, who I saw at the absolute height of my sadness and grief — but also knowing my favorite artists won’t live or otherwise rock forever.

So, my first time seeing Def Leppard was pure joy for me.

Joe Elliott’s voice is still powerful.

The guitars (VIVIAN CAMPBELL OMG and of course Phil Collen) and drums, choice.

And old pics of the band came up during “Photograph.”

Damn Joe looked good!

I tried to get pics of Steve Clark, who left us too soon at age 30. But I loved being reminded of him.

Anyway Rick Allen’s art was on exhibit.

As for my favorite bandmate, I was always in love with Rick Savage. Still am.

Love me a cute bassist.

Took way too many photos. Obvs.

Way too many videos.

But I reveled in the Gen X of it all — everyone acted well in the audience.

I have another concert coming up — speaking of tickets, StubHub can send me that purchase ANY FUCKING DAY NOW — and I almost wish I hadn’t done that one.

Not just because the city is occupied. Though that’s a big fat fucking deterrent to sightseeing in my old stomping grounds.

But because everyone on Reddit bitches that people are loud, aggressive and stinky at every show so far.

This artist does a ton of instrumental music. I’m talking glam metal guitars. And everyone says people scream-talk over it. And then get drunker and scream over the other songs.

Also, not for nothing but this artist is trans. And I’ve heard from way too many credible sources that online trolls are threatening to shoot them and us up.

Shame to have the National Fucking Guard outside and these bored little bobbleheads probably wouldn’t even try to save us because of who we are there to see — and what that means about us.

Which is that we like a really fucking good artist — no more/no less.

I am also bitter because DeSatan ordered that all of our rainbow crosswalks be painted over. Which he did at 3 a.m.

And when people started filling those dark spots in with rainbow chalk, he put police on 24/7 surveillance to keep do-gooders away.

This was supposed to not even be a Def Leppard appreciation post but, rather, a setup for signs from Momma that I had at the show last night.

But as always, I digressed.

Oh well. Imagine being mentally ill and continuing to read this page in hopes that I am having a bad life.

And I’m over here living my best — albeit cautious — one.

As usual.